Tag: the True Vine

I must have the Saviour with me,
not as a portrait on the wall,
nor a name stitched into Sunday’s fabric,
but as the breath that stirs the dust in me.

In the thin hour before dawn,
when the night’s long doubts grow honest,
let me not reach for answers,
but for the scarred hand that holds the dark.

Let the silence between my prayers
be filled, not with my own echo,
but with the quiet knowing that walks beside me,
a pillar of cloud within my chest.

For I do not walk to arrive,
I walk to find
that I am already accompanied,
a fragile branch grafted into the journeying vine,
and where I step,
the path is a promise.

Thank you for stopping by and spending time here. Your presence truly means the world to me. If this piece resonated with you, feel free to like, share, comment, or reblog—I’d love to hear your heart. Until we meet again in this space, I’m sending you love and abundant blessings.

With grace and truth,
Fay Ann Swearing